What A Weird Name
by NoInspirationForMyUsername
Summary: The evolution of Nice. At first he was Nameless, then he was 217, and then Nice. TW: Child Neglect, Emotional Abuse, Physical Abuse (minor).
1. Chapter one: Nameless

**What A Weird Name **

**Chapter One**

**Nameless **

The first six years of his life were spent in near silence.

His parents didn't talk much, if at all. His father was almost always away. When he was home, he constantly looked exhausted. There were bangs beneath his eyes, his hair was never combed, his clothes went unwashed. The epitome of fatigue.

His mother was always around, yet it was like he wasn't there to her. She never looked at him, never spoke to him, just... nothing. The only times she spent a little attention to him, were the times when she was drunk. Then, as soon as he entered her line of vision, she would scream and yell, the loudest sound he'd ever heard, grab him by the arm and throw him in the cupboard under the sink. There, it was dark and damp, and he had to curl into a ball to fit into it.

How long he'd have to stay there depended on whether or not his father came home. If he did, he would get his son out as fast as he could. He never said a word when he did, but always looked sorry. If he didn't come home, he'd have to wait until his mother remembered. First, she'd have to sober up, which usually took a few hours. Afterwards, she almost always forgot that he'd ever been there. Or maybe she didn't want to be reminded. Then, it could take hours, even days before he got out.

After a while, he learned to stay out of his parents' way. It wasn't like they wanted him around, anyway.

沈黙

The outside world had always been strictly forbidden.

They'd never told him, of course, but it was quite easy to discover. Every time he tried to go outside, his mother would magically appear, and drag him towards the cupboard. Those were the only times she ever locked him into it without being drunk, and soon enough he learned to just ignore that alluring universe.

Sometimes, he could sit in front of his window for hours, staring at the trees and animals outside. He never saw another house, but that was fine with him. Humans were boring, after all.

He wasn't happy, or even content. He simply thought he was.

監禁

He taught himself how to read and write. One day, when he was immensely bored, he had just grabbed an book from the shelf and stared at the pages. He repeated that process the next day. And again. And again. Until he, somehow, taught himself to read. He didn't really know how he did it, he just knew he did.

The book he'd stared at turned out to be a cookbook. He read through it, struggling to understand the words written upon the paper. When he'd finished reading it, he moved on to the next. The next. The next.

Soon enough, he'd devoured every cookbook that was in the house. He thought himself about math, geology, history, and most basic subjects. So he moved on to fiction. And that, that opened another world to him.

In the books, there were children and adults. The adults talked to each other, frequently, and the children were always together and played with each other. In the books, there were murder mysteries, fantasy worlds, relationship problems. He loved it, loved all of it, but not necessarily for the stories. No, what he loved, were the characters.

The characters interacted with each other so differently than real people did. They talked to each other, smiled at each other, were happy with their children, tried to spend time with each other. They also yelled, had fights, got drunk, but in books, they were negative things. The parents had to spend time with their children, otherwise they were bad parents. He even read one book in which the father was charged with child abuse for locking his daughter in the closet and hitting her.

The personages in books were so different than in real life, and he slurped it all up. He often imagined him being a brother of a character in the book, or taking someone's place. There, people liked him, paid attention to him, and he was able to explore the outside world.

There were times in which he fell asleep on his bed or the couch, with a book on top of him, smiling.

One time, when he read a book called ALL JAPANESE PRESIDENTS AND THEIR ACCOMPLISHMENTS, he found a picture of his father on third-to-last page. In the picture, he looked healthy, a bit younger, and his clothes were trim. He'd never laughed so hard before. Even real people could be made fake when entering a book.

偽り

The subject he found the most interesting were names.

Names, as far as he could figure, were things fictive characters had in order to help the reader distinguish one from another. Fictive characters asked each other for their names, and they often played a big part in the book. Names didn't always mean something, but sometimes he saw people with names that did mean something. When that happened, he always confused them for the actual meaning. Once, he read about a girl named Tsubaki, and the only thing he could picture was the tsubaki flower.

The funny thing was, he saw names on the front of the book, too. The name wasn't used in the book itself, but sometimes he read it on the back, with a description of the character underneath it. But the character never appeared in the book, so he always wondered what the point was.

Another thing that he found strange: in the book ALL JAPANANESE PRESIDENTS AND THEIR ACCOMPLISHMENTS, the presidents all had names. Including his father, whom he knew was real. His name, according to the book, was Hiro Heisei. The book also told him that Mao's wife – his mother – was named Haruka Heisei.

But he didn't think that the book was correct, because he also read that the pair had one daughter named Leia Heisei.

名前

His father had come home this day.

He sat on the couch, reading, and his father went upstairs.

Next, he heard a scream.

He immediately froze and prayed to whatever deity that was above that his mother wouldn't come downstairs. It took him a few seconds to realize that it wasn't his mother's voice screaming. It was his father's.

For a moment, he was puzzled. He'd never heard his father speak, and his voice didn't sound quite like he'd imagined. He also didn't get why he was screaming.

The minutes ticked away, and his father didn't come downstairs. He started getting worried.

After another five minutes ticked away, he sighted and stood up. Then, he walked upstairs.

He found his father kneeling on the doorstep of his mother's room. He was breathing hard and fast, staring at something hanging from the sealing. When he himself looked up, he saw his mother's body, softly swinging, the rope creaking under her weight.

He knew what this was – read about it once. Suicide. When someone couldn't take life anymore, they'd kill themselves by making a noose from rope, bind the rope to the ceiling, step on something high, stick their head through the noose and then jump of the high thing. The noose will fasten itself around the neck and you will slowly suffocate, if your neck doesn't break. You could be dead within minutes, but it could also take an hour.

He walked to his mother's body and checked her pulse. Nothing. He smelled the faint scent of urine.

He turned back to his father and saw his face, pale as the corpse of his mother, staring open-mouthed at the dead body. He walked in front of him and shook him gently. When he didn't move, he shook harder. Still, there was no reaction. So he slapped him.

That seemed to bring him back to his senses. He blinked a few times, and managed to rip his gaze away from the swinging corpse to look at his son. That son sat there, way too calm for a child that had just found his mother dead. Even he, himself, realized that. But he just couldn't get himself to care.

The man stared at him, before abruptly standing and walking away. He stayed there, for a while, before following his father.

Downstairs, his father was sitting at the table, hands in his hair, looking even more stressed than usual.

He stayed at a safe distance, but observed.

After fifteen minutes, his father stood and looked over at him. He opened his mouth.

'Come here.'

He stared at him for a few seconds before he realized what just happened. His father had talked. His father had talked to him. His _father_ had talked to _him_.

Cautiously, he walked over to him. His father knelt in front of him and took his son's hands in his. Said son closed his eyes, trying to drown in the warmth of the first initiated contact in a long time.

'Listen,' the man said. The son opened his eyes, paying full attention to the voice he'd never heard. 'I know this is going to be hard for you, and I'm sorry, but...' his voice died a painful death, before reincarnating into a much stronger one. 'You're going to come with me.'

He nodded and let himself be pulled along with his father. His father opened the door, and he stood still as stone. His father walked outside, before realizing something was missing and looking back at his son, he was still standing inside.

'Come.'

The boy looked at the outside he'd longed for so long, and before his father could change his mind, ran into it.

It felt amazing.

自由

The car ride to wherever was exciting and painful at the same time. It was the first time ever he was in the outside, which made it exciting. It was painful because, while he was outside, he was still forced to see the world drive by behind the window, like he'd been doing for forever.

The car ride was also silent. His father didn't speak and he didn't care. He was too busy observing the outside.

Finally, the car parked and stopped in front of a huge house. He may not care about humans or their residence, but this house was positively unearthly. It was no less than five floors high and so wide that the entire front of his old house could've fit into it at least six times. It had more windows than he could count, and the door itself was at least twice as big as he was.

His father unbuckled his seatbelt and told him to get out. _Told_. He still couldn't get over the fact that his father was talking.

Together they walked up to the enormous house. With every step they came closer, his father seemed to shrink. He found this weird. When your house was so big, why would you want to make yourself smaller? Weren't you small enough to begin with?

When they stood in front of the door, his father got the key out of his pocket, and pushed it open, face filling with dread.

'Mao?'

Someone appeared in the hallway. He looked at her weirdly. She was middle-aged, with long, brown hair and an old skin. She looked completely different than his mother, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for that. Though he did find it weird that he called his father by his fake name.

She had looked puzzled before, but when she saw him, her face got a look of suspicion.

'Hiro, who's that?'

His father cleared his throat, glanced at him, and said: 'Haruka, we need to talk.'

Haruka. He knew that name. Where had he heard that –

Oh.

_Oh_.

Suddenly, everything just went _click click click_.

Names were real.

_Click._

His father's name was Hiro.

_Click._

He was the president.

_Click._

The president's wife was named Haruka.

_Click._

They had a daughter, and only a daughter.

_Click._

His father was Hiro.

_Click._

His mother wasn't Haruka.

_Click._

Which meant that he was a bastard.

_Click._

発見

There was screaming.

He didn't like screaming.

'YOU DID WHAT?!'

'Honey, I'm sorry –'

'DON'T YOU DARE! DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE, HIRO HEISEI! YOU'VE BEEN CHEATING ON ME FOR TEN-FUCKING-YEARS! TEN!'

'Like I –'

'AND NOT ONLY DID YOU CHEAT, YOU ALSO MANAGED TO GET YOURSELF A LITTLE BASTARD CHILD! WASN'T OUR LEIA ENOUGH?'

'Of cou –'

'YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU FILTHY, GODFORSAKEN, ROTTEN, LYING, CHEATING, MANIPULATING ASSHOLE!'

'Dear, you need to cal –'

'I NEED TO WHAT? CALM DOWN?! AFTER I'VE JUST HEARD THAT YOU _CHEATED_ ON ME FOR NEARLY TEN_ YEARS_, YOU DARE TO TELL ME I NEED TO _CALM DOWN?!'_

He heard something smash and break. It sounded like something made of glass.

'FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU AND YOUR FILTHY BASTARD CHILD! GO DIE! GO DIE IN A FIRE, GET STRUCK BY LIGHTING, I DON'T CARE! DIE, DIE, DIE!'

He heard another thing break. His father stuck his head back into the hallway.

'Erm... this could take a while... eh... go upstairs?'

'HE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE EXCEPT OUTSIDE!'

Which was perfectly fine with him, thank you very much. He eyed the doorway wishfully.

'Dear, he needs a place to stay and –'

'THEN BRING HIM TO HIS WHORE OF A MOTHER!'

'That's what I'm trying to tell you –'

'WHAT?! YOU'RE KICKING ME OUT BECAUSE SHE'S MOVING IN?'

'That's not what –'

'OH NO? THEN WHAT IS?! THAT YOU'RE KICKING _LEIA_ OUT BECAUSE YOU'RE SICK OF HER? GONNA REPLACE HER WITH THIS THING?!'

She pointed to him, looking hysterical. Not that he could blame her. From what he read, cheating was a very, very bad thing.

'No! Margareth's –'

'SO THAT'S THE BITCH'S NAME! I'M GOING TO KILL HER, RIGHT AFTER I KILL YOU AND THAT SON OF A BITCH OVER THERE!'

'Calm down!'

'I'M NOT CALMING DOWN! I'M KICKING THAT BASTARD OUT, AND YOU RIGHT AFTER HIM! CAN YOU GO LIVE WITH YOUR PRECIOUS MARGARETH!'

'She's dead.'

That seemed to silence her.

He found this weird. Wasn't she just screaming that she wanted to kill her?

'Dead?'

Her voice sounded shrill.

His father nodded. 'Hung herself. Found her in her room. The kid saw her.'

Haruka stared at him. Mumbled 'So even to her you're that miserable a fuck, huh?' under her breath, before pressing her knuckles against her forehead.

The silence dragged on, and for the first time in his life, he was grateful for it.

His father was the first to speak again.

'Look, I don't like this either,' he began, eyeing his wife cautiously. 'But he needs a place to stay. On his own, he'd starve and die. And we can't just bring him to an orphanage –'

'Why not?'

'Because that would be a huge scandal. The Prime Minister cheated on his wife, I can already see the headlines.'

Haruka gritted her teeth. 'You deserve it.'

His father didn't say anything to that.

Haruka took a deep breath. 'Alright. It will also be humiliating for me if it comes out that you cheated on me, so we're not going to bring him to an orphanage. But he's not going to stay here, either.'

Again, silence. He kept completely still. Of course they didn't want him. He was stupid to hope otherwise.

'We could bring him to the Facultas. His mother had a Minimum. There is a change that he has one to.'

Haruka looked skeptical.

'And if he doesn't?'

His father shrugged.

They stared at each other. Finally, Haruka nodded.

'We'll try. If he doesn't have one, he's going to an orphanage. I'll take the humiliation.'

His father shuddered, but nodded.

He wondered what the hell an 'Facultas' was. And a Minimum, for that matter.

放棄

A.

A.

A.

A.

A.

A.

Well.

That was unexpected.

天才

**Author's note:**

**Written because of the lack of Nice's backstory. Nothing in the show alludes to this, but I just went with it. The Japanese linebreaks mean (according to Google Translate):**

**沈黙 ****: Silence**

**監禁 ****: Confinement**

**偽り ****: Fiction**

**名前 ****: Name**

**自由 ****: Freedom**

**発見 ****: Discovery **

**放棄 ****: Abondonment**

**天才 ****: Genius**


	2. Chapter two: 257

**Chapter two**

**217**

They call him 217.

He's not sure whether or not that counts as a name, because it's a number. However, in his experience, names are what you call people. He is called 217. So that's his name now.

217 smiled.

数

He develops his Minimum within a month.

They tell him that's a new record; they can't remember the last time someone developed his Minimum that fast. And it's not a Minimum to be taken lightly: the Cannonball Minimum, the ability to move as fast as sound.

217 told himself that he didn't care, that it doesn't mean anything – it's probably just beginners luck. It's not like he actually found something he's good at.

Still, deep in his heart, 217 couldn't help but be a bit proud.

(His Minimum kept developing faster than anyone else's ever had. Nobody knew why.)

(But if the source of Minimum is your ego, and you had just found that ego for the first time, then, well, it's only natural for it to develop faster. Right?)

自我

He loved the Facultas.

He loved the way people paid attention to him, he loved the way they complimented him, and he loved the way they tried to make him better; like he was good already, just needed to be upgraded. The adults spoke to him, and if the children didn't, then that was fine with him.

The Facultas also had the most amazing books.

Books didn't interest him as much as they used to, but he still loved to read. Only, he found himself less interested by the characters and their interactions, but more the setting. Travel books became his new obsession. He loved to read about faraway places, about the world he still hasn't seen. He loved to read about other people who did, and imagine that one day, he would be the one to climb that mountain, to sail that river, to cross that jungle.

He knew he used to do that in his old home, too: imagine he was part of the book. When he still lived with his mother, however, it was different. Now, he had hope that it could actually happen. The Facultas promised him that if he graduated, he could take any job he wanted. He would get the best jobs in the world. And with the money he made, he would make a trip all around the world, exploring it, seeing it for what it really is. He could do it. He knew he could.

That was the difference between his old home and his new: in his old home, he had no possibilities. He would have to stay inside, his father's dirty little secret, for the rest of his life. The best thing he could hope for was an interesting view of the outside from out his window.

In his new home, while he still could only look at the world through a window or a rooftop, held hope. Hope that, one day, he could explore that faraway image.

And that, that idea, that was why he loved the Facultas.

妄想

In the beginning, 217 found it flattering. The professor observed him like no other; with dedication and something that could almost be described as love. He kept his distance and never actually spoke to him, but 217 saw him non the less. He was always there, no matter what.

In the beginning, he found it flattering.

Then, it turned creepy.

He was _always_ watching, no matter where he went. In the beginning, it was just training, but later, he could wake up from his sleep to find him standing in the door opening of the boys dormitory.

After a while, 217 got really paranoid. He looked over his shoulder by the slightest sound, jumped for no reason and always tried to find potential camera's.

One day, he just snapped.

He waited until training, when the man was sure to be there, before marching up to him. The professor looked down at him, and he looked up at the professor. In his eyes shone determination.

'Why are you following me?'

Some other professors turned to look at them, and even some kids seemed to listen in on their conversation.

The professor looked only mildly troubled.

'What do you mean, 217?'

'You're following me. I sometimes wake up and see you staring at me, I caught you watching me at dinner and during the training you don't even blink. If you want something from me, just say it. I'm tired of this game.'

The professor stared at him for quite some time, before smiling, revealing his sharp teeth. He closed his eyes and nodded.

'I'm sorry if I've disturbed you in any way, 217. It's just... I thought you might be lonely.'

From that day on, the professor didn't follow him anymore, and 217 refused to admit how that last comment got to him.

強迫観念

He was seven when his life was, again, thrown upside down. To be precise, it was 20:30, and he was eating curry for dinner.

Then, he heard a voice coming from above him.

'Is this seat taken?'

A small boy, smaller than 217, was standing in front of him, looking questioningly at a chair.

217 shook his head and continued eating.

The boy sat down in front of him. 217 observed. He had a crème-colored jacket on, which was black at the top, jeans, and a blue T-shirt. The boys hair was white, and he looked about a year younger than him. He ate curry, like him.

The boy chewed on a bite of curry, swallowed and extended his hand towards him. There was a big grin on his face.

'Hi! I'm Skill, and I'm new here. I have a brother here, though. His name's Art. You know him? What's your name?'

217 stared at the hand for a few seconds, before shaking it enthusiastically. _Everything you can do, I can do better,_ he thought to himself.

'Hey, Skill, nice to meet you. You're new here? Awesome! I sadly don't know your brother, but I would love to meet him! What's your Minimum? Mine's called Cannonball, but that's a stupid name. I call it Sonic. I can move as fast as sound!'

'Really?' Skill's eyes were twinkling. 'Cool! I hope my Minimum is something like that. I haven't developed yet, and neither has my brother. But that's fine! I'm just here after all, and Art is working really hard. He says the training program here is harsh. Is it? How much free time do we have? Is the food always as nice as this?'

And so the conversation continued. 217 found himself slowly warming up to the kid. Not much other children had tried talking to him, and when they did, he pushed them away. But this kid was different. He was cheerful, bubbly, and seemed to genuinely like him. And he liked the kid to, and by the sound of it, he would probably like his brother, too.

Halfway through a sentence, Skill suddenly stopped talking. 217 raised an eyebrow.

'What's up?'

'I still don't know your name. That's awkward. I was sitting there talking to you, having no idea who I'm talking to.' Skill pointed his finger at him. 'You tricked me.'

'Did not!' Even though he totally did. He didn't like telling people he had a number for a name, he always got weird looks.

'Did to! And now you're going to tell me your name.' Skill folded his arms and looked at him stubbornly. 217 knew he didn't have a change of escaping this, so he yielded.

'217.'

'What?'

'My name's 217.'

'That's not a name! That's a number! You promised to tell me your name!'

'I told you! It's 217.'

'No it's not!'

'Yes it is!'

Skill sulked in his chair.

'Fine, have it your way, Nice-san.'

217 blinked. 'What?'

'That's your name now, since you refuse to tell me your real one,' Skill declared. He held a finger in the air and twirled it around, as if he was trying to underline his words.

'Your new name,' he said solemnly. 'shall be Nice, since you look like a nice person. Or do you prefer something Japanese? Sutekina is fine, too, but it sounds a bit girly, don't you think?' Skill tapped his chin with his finger, as if in thought. 'I guess I could also call you Annoying, since – oi, are you crying? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry! I won't call you Annoying, Nice-san! Promise! Stop crying, please!'

He hadn't even noticed himself, but he was crying, crying, crying and laughing at the same time.

A name.

He had a name.

A real, proper name.

This might just be the best moment of his life.

誕生

**Author's Note:**

**Japanese linebreaks mean (according to Google Translate):**

**数 ****: Number**

**自我 ****: Ego**

**妄想 ****: Delusion**

**強迫観念 ****: Obsession**

**誕生 ****: Birth**


	3. Chapter three: Nice

**Chapter three**

**Nice**

Art was cool.

He was quiet and levelheaded, unlike his brother, but very kind and smart. He sometimes even managed to outsmart Nice, which wasn't easy. He listened to their complaints about the training, even though he – without a Minimum to help him – had it a million times harder. He smiled at them and encouraged them to study harder, but also accepted it when they didn't want to.

Sometimes, Nice did think Art was a bit jealous of him. But that was okay. He didn't want to be, and he was still very nice, so he didn't mind.

Other times, when Nice and Skill had to drag him out of the training room or had to hide his study books because he needed sleep, Nice just found it really, really unfair himself that Art didn't have a Minimum. He deserved one.

But he didn't have one, and if Art could live with that, than so could Nice.

Still, he hoped that, in some miraculous way, his Minimum would develop.

未

Birthday and Ratio were also cool.

Birthday was a bit like him: constantly laughing for no reason, cracking jokes, trying to distract people so they wouldn't look to closely. And it worked. Also, it was kind of annoying.

Ratio had a different tactic: hide behind Birthday, don't draw attention to yourself, and people will overlook you. And that worked, too, but it was a bit less effective. Because if people did notice you, they knew something was wrong.

They were a good team, and even better friends. Nice liked them. Birthday was funny and strong, and Ratio was his much needed babysitter. It was fun to see them fight with each other, knowing they didn't mean a single word.

When it became clear that Birthday had to drop out, Ratio did too, in a moment's notice.

They were more than friends; sometimes, Nice swore that they were soulmates, in a totally platonic way. He liked them, most of the time.

But sometimes, they scared him.

Because he really, _really_ didn't want to see what would happen when one of them died or got hurt. Or tried to take over the world.

He wasn't sure the world could handle it if those two decided to take it over. Which he could totally see Birthday doing, if only to test whether or not it was possible.

切っても切れない

As he grew older, he began to see the Facultas differently.

He used to love it, because it gave him hope, and because here people were nice to him for the first time in his life. But the older he became, the more his eyes opened.

The people here were nice because they thought they could gain something from him. He was powerful, and they thought that if he liked them, he would help them later. It was selfish. The people here were selfish.

If he had grown up without Skill and Art by his side, he quite possibly would've thought that every person on earth was selfish. That they were all out for their own gain. Knowing those two, however, he knew that this wasn't true. Skill was selfless, and Art tried to be. So Nice tried to be selfless, too.

Trying to be selfless didn't mean giving up his dream to see the outside world.

He was still obsessed with it, and he was steadily dragging Skill down with him. Once, he acquired 50 yen, and proclaimed that he was going to save it, so that he could discover the outside. Art called him crazy and said that 50 yen wouldn't help him one bit. Nice still saw him smile a bit, though.

In the end, he still succumbed to the alluring candy. However, as he paid the 50 yen for a lollypop, he did discover something else.

The Facultas was a gilded cage.

There was a store in here to entertain the children, the food was more than good, there were multiple amusement rooms, and right after you graduated, the Facultas would decide what you would do in the outside. Most children inside didn't even think about going outside. And why would they? It was perfect here.

And that was exactly the problem.

It was _too_ perfect. Unnatural, so.

He didn't have much experience with the outside world, that he admitted, but he knew it wasn't perfect. Life wasn't always fun and games.

The Facultas wasn't always fun and games, either, with their murderous training program, but it was calculated. A routine. People knew what to expect, when to expect it, and when they could expect it to end.

Life wasn't like that. In life, you were continuously lost, and you never knew which way to go. But that was the fun of it; it was random. Good things didn't happen for a reason, but by accident. Bad things idem ditto.

In the Facultas, good things happened if you completed the training program. Bad things happened when you didn't.

And in that, it was a cage.

Because it made children think that, if you just did what you were told, you could have the world. And that wasn't true.

The Facultas wasn't the answer to all of their problems, even if they made it look like they were.

He knew their motives. If they gave children good things for completing their ordered tasks, they would do their ordered tasks. And then, they were perfectly trained to listen to the government.

It was all thought out.

The Facultas was a well thought out, manipulating cage.

Nice tried to explain that to Art, once, after he literally fainted from sleep deprivation.

'The Facultas is screwing with your brain,' he said to him. 'They are trying to make you their mindless puppet, so that they can put you on strings and play with you.'

Art didn't say anything, but Nice could see that he didn't believe him.

操り人形師

He was eleven when they found Skill's Minimum.

Nice never found out what it was, but it must've been something big, because they took him away right after.

When he asked, they said that Skill was 'Given special training, because his Minimum abilities are outstanding'.

Nice called bullshit.

He had just finished training with Skill when it happened. He had mentioned that he had heard Melinda, the girl Skill had a crush on, say to her friend that she kind of liked Skill. He had overheard her on his way to the bathroom.

Skill had looked at him with hopeful eyes and asked: 'Really?'

And suddenly, he felt like he would be capable of running faster than the speed of light.

Around him, people had begun screaming and pointing at monitors, as Nice was brought outside. When he asked what was going on, the brown haired professor leading him just said: 'I think we found his Minimum.'

And now Skill was gone.

Art didn't seem worried, but Nice didn't trust it. If he was just having special training, then why didn't he sleep in the dormitory anymore? Or ate with them in the dining room?

The first month was bearable.

The second month was worrisome.

The third month was suffocating.

And the fourth month was enough.

That evening, he bought a hamburger, before heading down the hall in search for his friend.

禁じられた

As soon as he saw the door with NO ENTRY on it, he knew it would be worth it to have a look in sight. Like, when someone says 'I forbid it!', that's a good sign it's worth doing.

He threw the door open, turned on the light and came face to face with a long hallway of doors. Still munching on his hamburger, he listened in to every door, trying to hear a potential Skill.

Finally, about halfway through the hallway, he heard something. It was faint, but it was worth a try.

'Hey! Are you in there?'

He heard something, a grunt. But it didn't sound like Skill.

'Huh? Weird. Hey! Hello!'

He began knocking against the door with his fist.

'You there? You a shut-in?'

This would be really embarrassing if nobody was in that room.

'Are you a NEET?'

Maybe if he annoyed whoever was in there for a long time, they would answer.

'Are you afraid you will lose your job if you open? NEET-san, open please! You're protecting your home, right?'

'I'm not a NEET!'

Aaaand it had worked. And that was definitely not Skill. It was almost like...

A girl?

'What the? You're a girl?'

He didn't wait for an answer.

'Oh, whatever. Don't ignore me. You need to work on your personality.'

After all, annoying the hell out of her had worked before.

'Who are you?'

An answer!

'Me? Nice.'

'That's a weird name.'

_What? Oh, no, you don't, little miss! You don't get to make fun of my name!_ he thought.

'Huh? Don't be rude! It's not weird, either.'

'It's weird.'

This would almost be funny if it wasn't so agitating.

'It's not! Plus, it's rude to ask someone for their name and not give your own.'

He had learnt that a long time ago.

'What's your name?'

'What?'

Not good. This was reminding him too much of the past.

'What does everyone call you?'

'Success Number 0-1.'

Oh, fuck. This was not good. This was everything but good. This was _exactly_ like before.

But Nice played dumb. _If Skill could do this, than so can I._

'Huh? What's that mean?'

'Like I said, Success Number 0-1.'

Alright, what did Skill say again?

'That's no name.'

'Shut up!'

She sounded angry.

'You're the one who asked! That's what they call me, so what choice do I have?'

Had he been that desperate back then? He didn't think so.

'What? Who are you? Why are you here?'

Deep breath.

' "Why?" Do you have to ask that? I was just looking around. And well, it said "no entry", so I just came in.'

'Even though you shouldn't?'

'You don't get it. Of course you want to go in if it says you shouldn't.'

He admitted, he was having fun. He couldn't believe he'd need to explain that to someone.

'Are you stupid?'

And now he was offended. This girl went from endearing to annoying in a flash.

'Huh? There's you being rude again!'

He heard a sound coming from inside. It sounded like rumbling of a belly.

'What, are you hungry?'

'No...'

She sounded like she wanted to sound strong, but ended up with an adorable kitty voice.

He eyed his hamburger critically. It was a shame he'd have to sacrifice it, but he wanted to become friends with that girl.

'Geez, you should've just said so.'

'That's not it.'

_Not fooling anyone._

He looked around to see if he could dump the hamburger somewhere that she could reach it. His eye fell on a flap. If he pushed it through that.

Bingo.

He could hear the hamburger falling on the other side.

'What's that?'

She had never seen an hamburger? She was even worse off than he thought.

'Eat it. You're hungry, right? I was munching on my way here, so there's only half left. I wanted to buy a snack that comes with a prize, but I just felt like a burger, you know?'

She probably didn't. But he decided to ignore that.

It was quiet for a second, and he asked: 'Did you eat it? Well, did you?'

He wanted to hear her reaction when she tasted it for the first time.

'What, you don't like hamburgers? I can't believe anyone wouldn't like a hamburger.'

And this seemed like a good moment to drop the bomb. Just like Skill had done.

'Well, if you don't want it, give it back, Hajime-chan.'

' "Hajime?" '

_Stay calm, stay calm. What did Skill do again?_

'What you told me wasn't really a name. It was Something Number 0-1, right? So I'm calling you Hajime-chan.'

' "Hajime"...'

_This is going great._

'Oh, do you prefer Start-chan? Something more English-y?'

_Skill had done this too, right?_

'Hajime...'

She suddenly became very quiet.

'Oh? What's wrong?

He heard the sound of crying coming from inside. For a short moment, he panicked. Had he done something wrong?

'Oh? Are you crying? Why? Wait, why?! Hey, hey, you're crying too much. Wait, why? Hey, it's like I made you cry. Oh, was it the mustard? Was it that spicy?'

'I want out...'

He felt his heart break into little pieces. _No time for that, you dumbass. More important issues at hand._

'Huh?'

'I don't want this anymore! Get me out! I haven't done anything wrong! But they do horrible things to me every day! I've had enough! I'm a human being, too!'

Now, she was crying harder than ever before. He felt horrible. This girl...

'H-Hey...'

'Get me out,' her voice broke. 'Get me out of here!'

Suddenly, a determination like no other washed through him.

'Okay, I will. I'll get you out of here, so don't cry.'

She stopped crying, and he continued quickly.

'Let's go together. I want to see the outside world, too.'

'You don't know the outside world?'

He had her attention. It was so, so hard to keep his voice steady and cheerful, but he managed.

'Nope, I don't. So let's go out together!'

'I...'

He took a deep breath. The moment of truth.

'You don't want to?'

It stayed quiet for a few seconds. Then:

'I do. I want to get out of here.'

He felt relieve was over him.

'Then let's go! It's a promise!'

'A promise...'

And at the same time, he promised himself that if he didn't manage to get her out, he'd kill himself.

約束

He felt Hajime's hand around his, and smiled broadly.

Then, he felt a shock in his back.

The last thing he saw was the black of Hajime's hair.

死

The first thing he saw was the white of the ceiling.

Then, he realized that he didn't manage to get Hajime out.

And then, he wished he was dead.

新生

He searched and searched and searched, but he couldn't find her.

Since he couldn't find her inside, she must be outside.

The next day, he went to the administration to sign out.

検索

Life on the streets was hard.

He couldn't deny that. In the summer, it wasn't too bad. It was easy to keep himself warm, then, and sleeping outside wasn't too bad. When the winter came around, however, that was when the problems really started. He didn't have a proper coat, didn't have a blanket, and he sure as hell didn't have a warm house. So he basically froze to death during the winter.

Then, there was the subject of money.

He tried earning it by preforming, but he didn't know how to do any tricks. He tried to sign up for one of these kid-friendly job you could legally do, but every time, as soon as they found out that he didn't have parental permission, he got kicked out.

So he started stealing. First, it was just food. Then toothpaste, a toothbrush, a regular brush, headphones and iPod (in his defense, he needed them to activate his Minimum), a coat to at least be a bit warm in the winter, etcetera, etcetera. Soon, the idea of earning money legally didn't even occur to him.

Life on the streets was hard.

But it wasn't unbearable.

ホームレス

He was seventeen years old and had been living on the streets for four and a half years, when he finally managed to find a steady job.

He worked at a restaurant as a waiter. The job was boring, the boss a jerk, and the customers annoying, but at least it got him some money. After a few months, he found an affordable apartment, and moved in the same day.

Nice felt good. For the first time in years, he was actually _warm_ during the winter. It was almost equivalent to heaven.

After about a year, he met two bodyguards-for-hire. Their names were Three (and no, he didn't manage to find out his real name, and he insisted on being called by the number), and Honey.

How he met them?

That was a bit of a long story, but it involved miniskirts, a penguin, a romantic manga, a stripper club and a car chase. Nice didn't really like to think of it.

But meeting them was one of his life-changers. Why? Because of one comment Honey made:

'Nice, you're really perceptive. You should become a detective or something.'

And a month later, Hamatora was created.

ビジネス

It was exactly three months later, in July, when he finally found Hajime.

Honestly, he hadn't even intended to. While he hadn't given up on finding her, he had ceased his active searching. After five years of nothing, even he found himself slowly giving up.

But there she was. Behind the bar, eating a hamburger.

Nice ran to the bar, threw the door open and screamed:

'Hajime-chan!'

Hajime looked around and stared at him blankly.

'Who're you?'

It took him only moments to wrap his head around the situation.

They had been on a wall when he got shot. He had been the only thing holding her up. After he fell, she must've fallen too. Maybe she had hid her head, or something.

She didn't remember.

She didn't remember him.

In a way, he supposed, it was for the best. Hajime didn't have a great childhood. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd forgotten that, too.

It didn't matter either way, he told himself. If she didn't remember, fine. Then he'd just start over again.

She he put on his broadest grin and grabbed her hand, shaking it wildly.

'Hi! Nice to meet you! My name's Nice!'

'That's a weird name.'

And in that moment, he knew it would all be alright.

はじめ

He and Art got reintroduced to each other after Nice visited the police. Or, well, was taken into custody by the police. Which was totally unfair. Sure, he may or may not have blown up some cars, but that was an accident! Besides, the kidnapper would've gotten away if he hadn't done that.

Anyway, shortly after he thought he'd been sentenced to Death by Boredom, his cell opened. Nice jumped up, happy to have a distraction.

Looking the face of his exhausted childhood friend was probably the best thing that happened to him that day.

再会

He was twenty-one when he met Murasaki.

He had been out on a job, when he noticed him following him. He didn't seem to mean any harm, but you never knew. So Nice was careful.

Shortly after, he proved more annoying than harmful.

And shortly after _that_, he proved that he was very useful while solving cases.

Nice could see that with every step he took, Murasaki seemed more baffled and annoyed by him. And soon, Nice noticed that Murasaki had upgraded him from 'Just a Job' to 'Personal Challenge'.

Murasaki was one of the types of persons that Nice would normally hate. The type of person whose whole life has been one streak of winning, and winning, and winning, until they got used to it. So much so, that they expected to win every battle laid in front of them. Every. Battle.

And when they were finally beaten, they found that they couldn't take a loss. And then, they went bat-shit crazy.

As time went by, however, Nice began to see that Murasaki was different.

When in the presence of Nice, Murasaki kept losing, and losing, and losing, over and over again. At first, Nice saw that he had wanted to scream about it. His hands had been itching to punch Nice and challenge him to a fight.

But he didn't.

Instead, Nice saw how Murasaki became calmer. And when the punch and the fight finally came, and Murasaki lay beaten on the ground, he laughed. Murasaki laughed.

It caught Nice of guard.

Grinning up at him, he said:

'I'll beat you some day.'

And Nice extended a hand towards him to help him up. With a big, toothy smile on his face, he answered:

'Challenge accepted.'

ライバル

In the middle of Nowhere, Birthday and Ratio were fighting about something. At the bar, Hajime was eating her spaghetti, while Master was grinding coffee and Koneko was drying the glasses.

Looking up in the face of a lecturing Murasaki, Nice didn't think he'd ever been so happy.

家族

**Author's Note:**

**Japanese linebreaks mean (according to Google Translate):**

**未****: Not Yet**

**切っても切れない ****: Inseparable**

**操り人形師 ****: Puppeteer **

**禁じられた ****: Forbidden**

**約束 ****: Promise**

**死 ****: Death**

**新生 ****: Rebirth**

**検索 ****: Search**

**ホームレス ****: Homeless**

**ビジネス ****: Business**

**はじめ ****: Introduction**

**再会 ****: Reunion**

**ライバル ****: Rival**

**家族 ****: Family**


	4. Epilogue: Brother

**Epilogue**

**Brother**

Sitting in front of their hot client, Birthday couldn't help but whistle.

The babe rose an eyebrow, but ignored him otherwise. She sipped her tea, and Birthday noticed how expensive those cups must've been. As if they didn't have enough evidence that she was rich.

He and Ratio were currently sitting on a designer couch, in a room full of expensive looking paintings and inside a house that must've cost at least a few million. Birthday wondered if he shouldn't pick up stealing, just to see if their client missed the money.

But no. Ratio would have his head, and besides, he was an honest man.

He eyed the girl's boobs.

Sort of.

'Enjoying the view?'

The almost amused voice of the woman shook him out of his daydream. He smirked arrogantly.

'Very much. They're very –'

He couldn't finish his sentence because Ratio elbowed him in the stomach. He doubled over and cursed.

'Sorry for my partner,' he heard Ratio say. 'He does that to everybody.'

The woman waived her hand in a dismissing gesture. 'Doesn't matter. At least he's honest enough to admit what he's doing.'

She put her teacup down, and sat up straight. She eyed them both carefully.

'You're not Hamatora,' she stated.

'On and off again,' Birthday groaned. Damn, Ratio could hit hard. His friend shot him a warning glance, as if saying _Flirt with our client again, and you'll be hit even harder_. He flinched. The woman had this strange twinkling in her eyes.

'What do you mean, "on and off again"?'

Birthday shrugged. 'I do work for them if they're busy, and Ratio tags along. Nice and Murasaki are working on another case, but they didn't want to miss this one. So here we are, and you're blessed with the presence of your greatest Birthday!' He pumped his fist in the air. Ratio scowled, but said nothing.

'I see.' The woman looked at them critically, and sighted. 'Well, I suppose it'll have to do.'

'What's that supposed to mean?!'

Ratio cut him off before he could say anything more. 'We haven't been introduced yet.'

The woman slapped her palm against her head. 'Of course! I knew I was forgetting something,' she looked at them a bit sheepishly. 'I'm Leia Heisei. Pleasure to meet you.'

'Same,' Ratio and Leia shook hands. Birthday scoffed.

'Hey! Don't I get to shake hands with the pretty lady?'

'No.' Leia and Ratio chorused.

Birthday resigned himself to sulking and listening to the conversation. He ought to focus at this job, anyway.

Leia picked her teacup up again, but didn't do anything but stir the liquid in it. She looked at Ratio.

'Do you know why you're here?'

'We got through that your case was a missing family member. Kidnapped?'

She grimaced. 'Not exactly. It's more... complicated than that.'

She sighted and put her teacup down again. A nervous habit, or something.

'It's a long story,' she warned. 'So make sure you're comfortable.'

Birthday opened his mouth to say something, but a glare from Ratio made him shut up.

'Well, I suppose I first have to tell you who I am,' Leia said, crossing her legs. 'I'm Leia Heisei, as I already told you. I'm the daughter of Hiro Heisei. I don't know if you've heard of him?'

Birthday squinted his eyes and scratched his head. 'Hiro Heisei, Hiro Heisei... wasn't that the former president?'

She nodded. 'Yes. My father, Hiro, was president for nearly twenty years. An amazing feat, and even after he stepped down, he continued to be active in the government.

My father was an important man. Which was why he couldn't let anything dirty his reputation.'

She took a deep breath.

'Or, in his case, anyone.'

Birthday's head shot up in surprise. 'Whoa, wait, time out, what?'

'Birthday, let her talk.'

Leia nodded her thanks to Ratio, and continued.

'My father died five years ago. Lung cancer. Shortly after his death, my mother got sick. Again, cancer. No matter what the doctors tried, they couldn't remove it. Last month, she died.'

'My condolences.'

Leia shrugged Ratio of. 'It's okay, I think. Or maybe I'm just in shock, don't know. Anyway, your case revolves around one of her last words to me.'

Her fingers started getting restless.

'A few days before she died, my mother asked me to come visit her in the hospital. She said she had something important to tell me. When I came there, she didn't smile. She looked dead serious. "Leia," she said, in a grave voice. "what I'm about to tell you will change your view of me and your father forever. We did something really, really bad, and while he started it, I also did some unforgivable things. Are you sure you want to hear it?" Naturally, I said yes.'

She paused shortly. Her hands wrung themselves into fists.

'She then told me that about my father's affair. Apparently, he had been cheating on my mother with another woman for nearly ten years. With the same woman. And during that time, the woman got pregnant and gave birth to a boy. In short, my mother told me I had a brother.'

Birthday was now on high alert. This was interesting.

'Let me guess, we have to find him?'

'Yes.'

Leia stared at him with determination.

'You don't have much to go on. My mother told me that his mother died when the son was six. My father brought him home, apparently, not knowing what to do with him. My mother refused to take him in and they decided to test him at the Facultas Academy. Are you familiar with that?'

Birthday and Ratio grimaced. 'We are,' Ratio answered shortly.

'Good. They wanted to see if he had a Minimum. If he did, they could send him to the Facultas. My father had good connections, and he'd be able to keep him out of the database. So, his good name wasn't in danger and my mother didn't have to look at my father's love child. Win-win, right?'

Leia sounded bitter. Birthday understood why. If he'd found out he had a brother that his parents kept secret... well, let's just say that that wouldn't've been pretty.

'He had a Minimum. That is the first of your clues. The second is that he went to the Facultas Academy. I don't know if he graduated, and there isn't an Heisei in the database. I already checked.'

That came as a surprise. The girl did her homework.

'Your third clue is that his mother also had a Minimum. He is white, and has brown hair. He should be around twenty-five now. That's it.'

Birthday blinked. Then, he jumped up.

'That's it?! How are we supposed to find _anybody_ with that description, let alone someone that isn't registered in the Facultas database?!'

'I don't know. That's why I called you.'

'Don't you even have a name?'

'My mother never asked for one.'

Birthday sat back down, grabbed his head and groaned. This was nearly impossible.

'I do have one other clue, but I'm not sure if it's much help.'

She lifted a piece of paper from the table and handed it to them. Ratio read it, before handing it over to Birthday. It was a series of numbers.

'I cashed in on a few of my father's favors, and managed to get a hold of somebody that had access to a closed database. According to him, a lot of people came to them when they wanted their child gone. They always took them in, even if they didn't have a Minimum. What for, my contact didn't know. If they did have a Minimum, they were given a number and were allowed to follow the regular program. These –' she tapped her finger against the paper. 'are the numbers of the children with a Minimum. There are no names attached.'

Birthday stared at the paper for a short time, then banged his head against the table.

'Great,' he muttered. 'Just great.'

'My reaction exactly,' Leia said dryly.

Ratio said nothing, but let his eyes glide over the numbers for a while.

'Your final payment, if you succeed, will be 2.000.000 yen. I'll pay you 500.000 in advance.'

Ratio looked at the numbers for a little longer, before nodding.

'Deal.'

҉

'Are you crazy? There's no way we'll be able to solve that case! It's impossible!'

Ratio didn't say anything. Birthday slammed his hands on the dashboard of the car.

'Oi! Answer me!'

'Did you hear what she said?'

Birthday was stunned for a second.

'When she gave us that little information, or when she was –'

'She said the Facultas also took children that didn't have a Minimum.'

'So? What does that –'

'She was talking about Hajime-chan and Koneko.'

Birthday froze.

'What do you mean?'

'They were taken in for experiments, remember? Master told us that Hajime and Koneko were abandoned as children and experimented on by the Facultas. Well, Hajime was. Remember who was one of the men in charge of those experiments?'

Birthday's mouth became dry. 'Master.'

Ratio nodded.

Birthday groaned. Why hadn't he thought of that?

'So you're hoping that he knows some of those numbers?'

Ratio nodded again.

Birthday sat back and fowled his arms. 'Still nearly impossible.'

Ratio didn't argue.

҉

Arriving at the newly rebuilt café Nowhere, Birthday cheerfully threw open the doors.

'Master!' he screamed.

'Not here.'

Hajime was sitting by the bar, drinking some milk. She didn't even look at them.

'Well, where is he then?'

'Out.'

Birthday's eyebrows shot up and he let himself fall into the chair next to Hajime.

'Out? In the middle of the day? Why?!'

'Don't know.'

Ratio sighted and sat in front of them. 'I guess we'll have to wait.'

'I don't wanna wait!' Birthday whined. 'I wanna solve the case!'

'Since when are you so productive?'

'Since we can cash in on 2.000.000 yen.'

'You know that Murasaki and Nice will get their share, right?'

'Why? We did all the work!'

'It's their business. We shouldn't even be helping them.'

'It's not fair!'

Ratio just ignored that. Birthday clacked irritated with his tongue.

'I don't wanna sit still. Oi! Hajime! Do you recognize any of these numbers?'

He threw the paper in front of her. She put down her milk and picked it up. He expected a toneless no, but instead he got silence. Hajime was staring at the paper like she'd seen a ghost.

'Huh? Hajime?'

'This one.'

She pointed to one of the numbers. Birthday's mouth fell open.

'Seriously? Hajime, you're a godsend! Who is it?'

She was quiet for a while. Then she said:

'Nice.'

҉

Ratio and Birthday were staring at a photo of Nice. It was on Birthday's telephone, and the widely grinning face of their friend shone in the light of the screen. Everybody was very quiet.

It was Birthday who broke the silence.

'I mean, I guess it's possible,' he said. 'He fits the description: brown-ish hair, white, twenty-five years old...'

Ratio didn't answer. Instead, he looked at Hajime. 'You sure that this number is Nice?' he asked her.

She nodded.

Birthday groaned.

'Well, what do we know about the guy, anyway? He's one of our best friends, but he never talks about his family. Hell, do we even know his surname? Can you remember if he talked about himself at the Facultas?'

Ratio shook his head. 'He didn't.'

Birthday went with his hand through his hair. This hit way to close to home. It was one thing to solve a missing person case, it was a totally different thing when your friend _was_ the missing person.

'Maybe Art knows?' he offered. 'He's known him longer than any of us.'

Hajime stiffened. She still hadn't forgiven him for nearly killing Nice, and honestly, Birthday didn't blame her. He also tried to avoid the guy as much as possible.

'Nice said he hadn't seen the outside world,' Hajime said. 'When he met me.'

Ratio seemed to have made a decision. 'I'm calling him.'

'Who? Art?' Birthday asked.

Ratio nodded, grabbed his phone and walked outside. Birthday's own phone lay shining on the table.

Birthday stared at the number. 217. It seemed so cold and impersonal, so different than their friend. But, according to Hajime, they were one and the same person. He tried to imagine the happy-go-lucky detective as the brother of the rich hot chick. It didn't go well.

After about five minutes, Ratio walked back inside. He looked like he was trying to keep himself calm.

'And?'

Ratio pushed his fingers against his forehead.

'Art didn't know much new,' he said. 'He did confirm the fact that Nice is 217. He said that when Skill told him about Nice for the first time, he called him "that weird kid that called himself a number". He had heard a lot of the other teachers call him that, too, before Nice started correcting them. Art thinks that Skill gave him his name.'

Birthday fell forward into his hands. 'Argh. This is fucked up.'

'Yes,' Hajime agreed.

She looked pale, but Birthday had bigger things to worry about.

Like Nice, who was literally just walking in.

'...my fault that the car got damaged!'

'You were the one that thought it was a good idea to drive it into the guy!'

'It was the only way to stop him! Besides, how could I have known that the guy was a Minimum holder?'

Nice and Murasaki continued to argue like that before they noticed that Hajime, Ratio and himself were staring at them. Then, they abruptly stopped. Nice waived cheerfully.

'Yo! How did your case go? Closed it yet?'

'What's the payment? We could use it to pay of the garage bills.'

Neither of them said anything. They just kept staring at Nice. Said person shuffled uncomfortably.

'What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

Nobody spoke. So Birthday decided to break the silence.

'We haven't finished the case yet. Or maybe we have. Dunno.'

Murasaki looked at him like he was trying to see his soul. Birthday shivered involuntary.

'What do you mean "Or maybe we have"?'

'Weeelll,' Birthday said, bracing himself for the awkward conversation to come. 'It all depends on what your surname is.' He pointed to Nice.

Nice seemed at a loss for words. That was strange. Nice was _never_ at a loss for words.

'How is that important?'

'Classified information.'

'What the hell? We're the ones _running_ this business!'

'Oh, come on, Nice, just tell us your surname. That isn't such a big deal!'

Nice glared at him. Nice didn't glare a lot, but when he did, it was scary. Then, he sighted and through his arms in the air.

'Don't know.'

'What?'

'I don't know what my surname is. They never told me at the Facultas and I forgot. How does that help our "case"?' He said, making quotation marks in the air.

Birthday looked at him in horror, even though he hadn't expected anything different. 'You don't know? How does that even work? You need fill in your surname on everything; contracts, papers, ID's...'

'Trust me, you don't wanna know.' Nice said.

'Heisei.'

The word hung in the room like a heavy metal ball. Hajime looked straight at Nice. Now he didn't just look at a loss of words, but also completely in shock. He blinked multiple times, before giving a shaky laugh.

'What?'

'Heisei. Your father's name was Hiro Heisei.'

For a few seconds, you could hear a pin drop in the room. All it took was one glance at Nice's face to know that they had been spot on.

After that few seconds, Nice reached for his headphones. Birthday panicked. If he used his Minimum...

'Oh no you don't,' Murasaki growled and made a dive for him. He managed to prevent Nice from putting his headphones on, but couldn't get them off his head. It was a struggle.

After he unfroze, Ratio helped Murasaki. Birthday and Hajime just kind of stood there, before coming back to their senses at the same time and jumping in the fight.

And, let's be honest here, if it's four to one, you're not going to win. After only a few minutes, they had Nice pinned against the floor, headphones one meter further, and they were all panting like crazy.

'Calm... down,' Ratio said between gasps. 'Not... doing... anything.'

Nice growled.

'What's going on here?'

When he turned his head, he saw Master standing in the doorstep, with Koneko on his side. He held a plastic bag and looked like pigs had just started flying.

'We got a case,' Ratio said, finally managing to catch his breath. 'Someone was searching for –'

'I'm _not_ meeting the son of a bitch,' Nice snarled from the ground. 'He can go die. I'm NOT meeting him!'

'Good for you that he's already dead, then,' Birthday snapped at him. Nice blinked surprised.

'What?'

'He's dead. His wife's, too. It was their daughter calling us. She heard from her mother right before she died about the affair and her half-brother, and now she wanted to find him.'

Nice went still.

Master groaned and rubbed his head. He had a face that screamed _I'm too old for this shit_.

'Hajime, Murasaki, Ratio, Birthday, get of Nice. Nice, keep your cool. We'll talk about this like civilized adults, understood?'

They all nodded.

'Good. Now will someone tell me what is going on?'

҈

Nervous? He?

No, why would he be nervous? He was only meeting his sister for the first time, so why would he be nervous? The fact that he was ticking his fingers against his leg so fast that it had to be some kind of record had nothing to do with being _nervous_, of all things. Neither had the fact that he had been trying to postpone this infinitely. Or that he had been to the toilet at least seven times this hour. Or, well, anything, because he _wasn't nervous_.

Never mind the fact that they almost had to drag him to the mansion. (The exact same mansion as then oh god what if she didn't like him what if she hated him what if he hated her what if she was mean what if they had lied to him and it was his father waiting for him inside what if –)

_Ding dong_.

The bell resounded inside the house. Nice was ready to bolt, and he probably would've done it if Murasaki hadn't been using his Super Grip Minimum at him.

The door opened.

In the door opening stood a young woman, a little older than he was, with half-long, curly auburn hair (_the same colour as his_), green eyes and a tanned skin. She said nothing, just stared at him. He followed her example.

'Why the bandages?'

He blinked. 'Sorry?'

'Why the bandages?' She repeated. 'Are you wounded, or something?'

He came to his senses. Nice smiled broadly and flashed the V-sign.

'Nope! They just look cool!'

'They're lame.'

'Are not!'

'Are to.'

'You're lame!'

'Must be a family trait.'

With that, they broke out in wild, unstoppable laughter.


End file.
